


take the fall

by thisissirius



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), SPECTRE (2015)
Genre: M/M, Protectiveness, q is not a damsel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5211470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I was going to use Madeline,” Blofeld continues, as he paces the length of the glass. “You’ve done a good job of convincing me that you loved her, Bond, but even you’re not that good of a liar.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>blofeld has eyes in austria, and he knows there's someone else he can use against bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take the fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seektheinfinite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seektheinfinite/gifts).



> i have taken some liberties with both the dialogue, and the sequence of events post-morocco. i love madeline, and i think she's awesome, but i have a lot of 00q feelings that i have to get out. 
> 
> sorry not sorry. 
> 
> thanks to seektheinfinite for reading this over (we share a fandom again!)

James knows it’s useless to keep shooting the glass once he’s done it, but he can’t stop himself. It’s a knee-jerk reaction to kill Blofeld now that he has him in his sights. He’s responsible for so much that’s screwed up about James’s life, even if he’s never been one to assign blame. It’s this that makes James tempt his wrath again. “You’re a hard man to kill, Blofeld.”

Finally, Blofeld turns to face him, and James feels a sense of satisfaction at the scar that runs down his right eye. 

“Ouch,” James says, with a smirk. “I do hope that doesn’t hurt too much.”

It’s a lie and they both know it. “My wounds will heal.” There’s a glint to his eye that James doesn’t like, and he smirks. “Will yours?”

He keeps talking, and James feels his heart wrench as he thinks about M, Madeline, Vesper - everyone else he’s hurt to get where he is. He thinks of Mallory, Eve, _Q_ , and doesn’t want them to end up in the ruins like everyone else. Before Blofeld can continue waxing lyrical, James cuts him off. “Why are we here? Did you miss me?” 

Blofeld smirks. “No.”

There’s a tense silence and then Blofeld blows on the glass, condensation coating everywhere he breathes. When he starts to draw on the clouded glass, Bond has a sinking feeling in his stomach, even before Blofeld’s finger draws an O. “There’s someone else who did.”

Blofeld has nothing to lose. 

James knows this. He’s had the message from M to say that C is dead, that Q did his job. It’s nothing less than he expects, and while he always knew Q would pull through, something about the smile on Blofeld’s face sends ice through his veins. “What are you talking about?”

“I was going to use Madeline,” Blofeld continues, as he paces the length of the glass. “You’ve done a good job of convincing me that you loved her, Bond, but even you’re not that good of a liar.”

James forces himself to scoff. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You forget I had people in Austria. I have eyes everywhere, James, and I saw who else you tried so desperately to keep out of harm’s way.”

It’s like a punch to the gut, and it takes everything Bond has not to let Blofeld see a reaction. The _Q_ on the glass has faded, spirals of condensation remain, but they’re fast fading. 

There’s a timer on the wall behind Blofeld, wires crawling up the wall and around the building - James has been seeing them this whole time and he feels cold, sick to his stomach. “What have you done with him?”

“That’s for you to find out.”

There’s no way Blofeld could have Q; he’s safe, with M and Eve. Bond would know if something had happened to him, M would have told him.

“This building will blow in three minutes,” Blofeld says, gesturing at the timer. He sticks his hands in his pockets, nonchalant, like he has all the time in the world. James wants to kill him with his bare hands, to wring the life from his body before he can hurt anyone else. If he’s done anything to Q, James will follow through; he’ll go to the ends of the earth to find Blofeld and make sure he’s dead. “I have a means of escape, I’ll be safe. _You_ have a choice. Search this building trying to find your beloved Quartermaster,” he spits the word like it’s a curse, “or you can save yourself and live with the pain.”

James doesn’t want to believe him. Three minutes is nothing, and if he gets Q killed - “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?”

It’s like Vesper all over again, the horrible sense of inevitability that comes with losing someone you love and knowing you have to live beyond that. James can’t let Q become another of Blofeld’s attempts to destroy him; can’t let Q die because of him. 

“Oh, James,” Blofeld says, laughing. “You should know by now that I always find the right buttons to press.”

As soon as Blofeld opens the door, James takes off running. He remembers walking these halls before, knows every inch of them like a second home, like MI6 is still here, running with his M at the helm. Instead his footsteps echo through the broken and dusty hallways, his yells for Q bouncing off of the walls and hitting him again with mocking clarity. 

His heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest. He’s been in these situations enough that he’s mentally counting down, feeling the seconds fall into a minute and he still doesn’t know where Q could be. So many places, not enough time, and all the while his mind screams _your fault, your fault, your fault_.

He skids to a halt in M’s old office, London stretching out below him. He hears the thud of the helicopter before he sees it, the MI6 building behind it half-destroyed. James thinks of M and Q except Q’s not there, he’s here. James led him here, even if he did it subconsciously. He’s in danger because he knows James. Blofeld isn’t wrong about that; James hurts people, his life is in ruins and he’s not sure Q deserves to live with that. 

_You’re an idiot, 007._ He hears the words in Q’s voice, visualises the expression that’s equal parts incredulity and affection. 

He wants to shoot Blofeld’s helicopter from the sky, knows the rage is showing on his face, but he has something more important to do. He's barely taken a step when he hears a bang and a muffled shout, as the timer in his head ticks down another minute. There’s a door to his left, but when he grabs it, it’s stuck. “Q?”

There’s another muffled shout from behind the door and James throws his whole weight into it, pulling until it gives way with a creak. As it slams open, James feels his heartbeat quicken. Q's tied to a chair, his body wrapped in wires, with a gag tight in his mouth. There’s blood on his face, and though his hands are bound behind him, James can see there’s something crooked about his right elbow. 

White hot rage blossoms in James’ chest but he pushes it down, grabbing his knife. He cuts Q’s hands free first, eying the timer on the wall behind Q’s left shoulder. As the bonds fall away, Q lets out a pained groan, but with his good hand, works the gag out of his mouth. He doesn’t say anything, just meets James’ eyes, and James feels some relief that Q isn’t pushing him away, or cursing him out for putting him in this situation. As Q stumbles to his feet, James helps him from the room, eyes catching on the 00:44 seconds showing on the timer. 

Stretching before them is a gaping hole, and James catches a fleeting glimpse of the net at the bottom before he’s pulling Q close. There’s something close to relief in his eyes as they stand chest to chest, but James doesn’t let himself dwell on it. “Do you trust me?”

There’s no hesitation when Q says, “Yes,” and James wants to stop and kiss him, but there’s no time. 

“Watch your arm,” he says, before gripping Q’s hand and tugging him over the edge. 

Q cradles his arm close to his chest as they leap into the hole, the net at the bottom catching them, though there’s a creaking sound as something wrenches. They have scant seconds, and even before they’ve completed their jump, James tugs Q out of the net. 

Falling into step with him, Q has a steely determination on his face, and it’s not the first time, but James is proud of his strength in the face of everything that’s happening. “How long do we have?”

“Not long,” James pulls him back towards the water, to the boat he saw earlier when Blofeld led him on a merry chase.

James counts down from ten even as they both clamber onto the boat, Q leaning against the control panel more than James would like. With most of his attention on guiding them out of the path of the impending explosion, James catalogues Q’s broken arm, the blood matting the side of his head. He assumes it was from being knocked out, and James wants to take his time with Blofeld, make him suffer. 

“James,” Q says quietly, eyes on James’ face. He knows what James is thinking, always has done, even when James doesn’t know why. 

Before James can say anything in reply, the explosives detonate, a deep rumble and the seering heat of fire racing toward them. James doesn’t expect Q to be afraid, but it’s still a surprise to see the relief on his face as they speed out onto the Thames, leaving the remnants of the explosion behind them. His classes are slightly crooked, and his clothes are battered and torn from everything he's been through. James has never seen him look so attractive. There's no time to dwell on it, and James is all business as the helicopter flies overhead.

“Can you steer?”

Q doesn’t reply for a moment, but he sets his face, shoulders James out of the way and puts his good hand on the wheel. James trusts him, lets him take control as he pulls his gun out of the back of his trousers, cocks it at the helicopter. He misses the first time, hears Q’s disappointed grunt. “I can take the toys away if you’re not going to use them properly.”

James wants to laugh, feels somewhat lighter, though it’s dissipated by the sight of Blofeld’s helicopter. He fires again and again, aiming for anything that will bring the helicopter down. He wants to believe it’s precision, but it’s just a mix of luck and experience when he finally hits the rotor. He watches the pilot fight, but knows it’s futile; remembers his own battle with the helicopter in Mexico and he was in complete control. 

He moves back, but Q doesn’t relinquish control. He’s gritting his teeth, and gestures at Westminster bridge where the helicopter is coming down dangerously close to the road. “I can get you there.”

There’s no doubt in James as he keeps his eyes on the impending crash, feeling a wrench in his chest as he always does when there’s damage to London, however responsible he is. As Q pulls alongside the path, James grabs hold of the boat rail and leaps onto the path, already running. He doesn’t wait to see if Q is following, knows with a cold certainty that he will be. 

He makes his way up Westminster bridge, surveying the rotor damage in the rubble, the crippled helicopter - and Blofeld crawling away from the wreck. Something tight and heavy settles in James’ chest and he doesn’t hesitate as he approaches, raising his gun and aiming it at Blofeld’s head. 

As Blofeld asks him to finish it, James is aware of M and Eve coming up the bridge. He ignores them, focusing only on the man responsible for all of this and so much more. He wants desperately to pull the trigger. 

“James,” Q says. James look up to see him swaying, barely able to stand, but he’s there. He’s holding his broken arm gingerly. “Don’t.”

“I’d be doing everyone a favour,” James says, feeling the truth of it down to his bones. He promised himself back in the ruins that he would do this, that he would end everyone’s suffering at Blofeld’s hands. When he looks back at Q, he sees the haunted look in his eyes. 

“Don’t be him. You don’t kill out of malicious intent, you never have.”

James doesn’t deserve him, doesn’t know what he would do without him. He makes the choice then, looking from Q back to Blofeld. “He’s right. I have something better to do.”

He drops his arm, turning his back on M and Eve, even if only for tonight, and heads back down the bridge towards Q. He can be sure that M will give them a day at least, that it will take longer to straighten out the Nine Eyes mess and get the double-oh program back off the ground. He’ll spend that time showing Q exactly how much James needs him, wants him. 

From the smile Q gives him as he approaches, James knows that it’s mutual. 

James doesn’t want to give up this life, he doesn’t want to leave MI6, to find Madeline and leave everything behind. He needs this, wants this, and even if he’s never thought of what would happen to him if he didn’t have this job, he knows he’ll always have Q. 

That’s more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> more fic to come. probably.


End file.
